


Blessing

by marleymars



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Marriage Proposal, papa cor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 10:30:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14830572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marleymars/pseuds/marleymars
Summary: Ignis is a gentleman, so of course he needs to ask Prompto's father for his blessing before popping the question.





	Blessing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UnstableFable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnstableFable/gifts).



> Hey y'all, I wrote this as a birthday present for my cool friend [Bloo](http://ladybloo.tumblr.com/)! Happy birthday, fam! I wish you many happy returns and hope you like this humble serving of smut <3

Ignis Scientia took a steadying breath as he mounted the concrete steps leading up to Cor Leonis’ front door. The marshal lived in a modest row house surrounded on both sides by identical brick-faced dwellings. There were flower boxes in the windows and a welcome mat bearing a cheery chocobo chick on the landing—embellishments that Ignis was certain had not been chosen by Cor himself.

Nevertheless, the sight of these accoutrements settled the nerves in Ignis’ stomach somewhat. Small as they were, they were reminders of why he was there in the first place.

At the door he paused only for the briefest moment before raising a hand—which was certainly not trembling—and pressing the doorbell. An audible chime echoed inside of the home, and after what felt like an eon, there was the sound of booted footfalls and a lock being undone. Then the door was swinging open, and it was too late for Ignis to convince himself that this was a needlessly formal gesture.

“Ignis,” Cor said, regarding Ignis carefully, taking in every detail like the trained warrior that he was. At this pointit was instinctual to assess every person he interacted with and ascertain their potential threat level.

On most days, Ignis found he passed the marshal’s muster. Regardless, he found his already straight back straightening further, and he met Cor’s discerning and misleadingly neutral gaze directly.

“Cor,” he said. “May I come in?”

The marshal’s brows rose almost imperceptibly. Normally, Ignis addressed him as “Marshal Leonis,” even in informal circumstances. A difficult habit to break, but it was important that he do so today.

Cor only hesitated briefly before moving out of the doorway, allowing entry. “Prompto isn’t here,” he said as Ignis stepped past him into the foyer.

“I know,” Ignis said. He reached up as if to remove his coat, then decided against it. What he intended shouldn’t take long—at least, he hoped it wouldn’t become something drawn out and uncomfortable for the both of them.

“He’s fishing. With Prince Noctis,” Cor said, as if to reinforce the point. Ignis took the marshal to mean, “Why are you here and what do you want?”

“Yes. I, ah...I asked Noct to take Prompto with him today,” Ignis admitted. He glanced down to the wooden floorboards, swept clean. There were multiple pairs of shoes on a small bench by the door, most of them Prompto’s, he was sure. “I wanted to speak with you without interruption.”

Cor made a noncommittal noise, then nodded down the hall. “Coffee?” he asked, taking the lead.

“Yes, please,” Ignis said as he fell into step, mostly to be polite. He knew from experience that the marshal’s skill in brewing coffee was...lacking.

Photos lined the walls, all of them Prompto’s work. Some were landscapes, images of nature or of the city, more than one were portraits of the people who Prompto loved. More touches of warmth in a home that might otherwise have been empty and devoid of decoration. It wasn’t something that anyone would want to give up willingly. The thought sent nerves slithering back into Ignis’ stomach, but he pushed them down as they entered the kitchen.

Cor gestured for him to take a seat, and Ignis did so. Silence fell heavily over the room, minutes ticking by interminably as Cor went about filling his coffee maker with water and measuring out too many scoops of discount brand coffee grounds. The chair felt unusually hard and unwelcoming that day, considering Ignis had sat at this table before. He’d shared meals with Prompto and his father, tutored Prompto and Noct in this very room when the two younger men were still in high school. This house should have felt like a second home to Ignis, but without Prompto there he felt oddly out of place.

Ignis was unwilling to be the first one to break the silence—he occupied himself with wondering what Noct and Prompto were up to. The prince had taken his father’s boat out into Insomnia’s harbor for a day-trip of “fishing and fun on the high seas,” as Prompto had put it. It was amusing, more so considering that Ignis knew for a fact that Prompto found fishing as a hobby to be utterly dull. Of course, Prompto would go fishing with Noct anyway because they were best friends, and because he could take all manner of interesting photos from His Majesty's boat. He would delight in the novelty for a while before growing antsy, and then he would play games on his phone while Noct continued to fish with a singular focus that he lacked in most other areas.

“So,” Cor’s voice broke Ignis’ train of thought. Coffee was placed before him in a novelty Kenny Crow mug, and he automatically reached out for it. Sugar and cream had also been set out on the table, but Ignis took his coffee black. He wasn’t certain that anything could salvage the taste of the marshal’s coffee, at any rate.

“So,” Ignis echoed. “There is a matter that I wanted to discuss with you—”

“While Prompto’s out of the house,” Cor interjected, grey eyes penetrating even as they gave nothing away. He pulled out a chair opposite Ignis, settling down with the circular dining table between them.

Ignis swallowed hard, and nodded. “Yes. He doesn’t...he doesn’t know that I’m here. I want...I need to ask something of you.”

“And that is…?” Cor prompted when Ignis didn’t continue.

Ignis raised a fist to his mouth, cleared his throat. The other hand remained wrapped around the reassuring heat of the Kenny Crow coffee mug. Now that he was there, sitting with the marshal, he felt a bit foolish. Surely Cor the Immortal wouldn’t be given to outdated traditions, but this had seemed important to Ignis when he’d gotten the idea into his head. _Nothing ventured, nothing gained,_ he thought, drawing in a bolstering breath.

“I want to ask Prompto to marry me,” he said, meeting Cor’s gaze unwaveringly. “And I realize that it’s a bit old fashioned, but I would like to ask you for your blessing.”

Good. The words were out. He felt lighter for having said them.

Only...Cor wasn’t saying anything in return. He regarded Ignis with an unnervingly lengthy gaze, and it felt to Ignis that he was being weighed and measured on a much deeper level than he had ever experienced before.

Finally, Cor broke the winding tension in the air, his words making Ignis want to slide to the floor. “You want to marry Prompto,” he repeated.

“Yes,” Ignis said. “Very much so.” He glanced down at the surface of the table, eyes tracing the wood grain.

“And you want my permission?” Cor said, a clear question in his voice.

“Your _blessing_ ,” Ignis clarified, eyes snapping back up. “He’s your son, and I respect you as a superior officer and as a comrade. And Prompto adores you—you’re his hero. Your opinion means the world to him, and before I ask him to spend the rest of his life with me I would like to know that you approve.”

With each word he felt more confident, less like he was behaving like a “stuffy old man,” as Noct had said. It was the prince’s opinion that Ignis should simply ask Prompto to marry him and damn what anybody else said about it. Well...Ignis was partially in agreement. But he had to put forth the effort of this gesture at the very least.

“I see,” Cor said. He took a sip of his coffee, looking introspective. When he set his cup back on the table his lips had curved downward somewhat. “You want to marry my kid, huh?” he repeated, speaking mostly to himself.

“Yes, sir,” Ignis said.

“Why?”

Ignis had been expecting such a question, though perhaps not phrased so bluntly.

“I love him,” he said, pushing down the flustered fluttering of his heart. “He’s the kindest, most loving person I know. He’s made me want to be a better man, and I’m lucky for every moment that he has deigned to spend in my company.” He clenched his jaw to forestall further effusiveness—Cor liked to keep things simple and to the point. A long, flowery speech would only test the marshal’s patience.

Another sip of his coffee. Cor averted his gaze, staring hard at something on the table. There was a Lazy Susan at the center; Ignis could see that several photos were stuffed into the napkin holder, and he felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Prompto had a tendency to leave his pictures lying around, photos of him and his friends, or himself and his father. “I like seeing pictures of my family,” Prompto had said one time, “and I’m running out of wall space to hang them all up.”

“What if I say no?” Cor asked.

Another question that Ignis had expected Cor to ask.

“Then I will ask him anyway, and he’ll be so excited to be getting married that you won’t be able to bring yourself to say a word against it,” Ignis said levelly, heart racing in his chest, sounding more self-assured than he felt. As much as he knew Prompto loved him, a part of him worried that Prompto would say no, that he might not be ready to get married. But he let none of that show on his face.

A beat of silence passed, then another.

And then Cor smiled. It was a small thing, just the faintest twitch of the lips, but it was there.

“You’re probably right about that,” Cor said. And then he asked something that Ignis hadn’t been expecting. “Do you have a ring?”

“I—,” Ignis blinked, and reached a hand into his coat. A small, velvet box sat nestled in the inside left pocket, where it had been for the past several weeks. He hesitated as his fingers brushed against it, and then he pulled it out and snapped it open. The ring was nestled safely inside, just as he remembered. Astrals knew that he’d spent enough hours just staring at it with trepidation, wondering whether he’d been too impulsive. It was a simple enough ring, a silver band with a filigree pattern, no diamonds or anything so ostentatious that Prompto would only fret over it.

He set the box on the table, open and facing toward the marshal. Cor stared at it a moment, and Ignis thought that he could see the marshal’s throat working. Ignis wondered if Cor was fighting to maintain his composure—the one thing that never failed to crack the marshal’s cool exterior was his son. The first time Ignis had seen Cor break into a full smile, the first time he’d seen the marshal laugh, was when the man had been exchanging familial banter with Prompto.

Abruptly, Cor stood. Ignis rose as well, automatically, coffee untouched, retrieving the ring box and tucking it carefully back into his pocket. When Cor held out his hand over the table, Ignis reached out to clasp it. “I like you, Ignis. More importantly, I trust you. You have my blessing.”

He gave Ignis’ hand a firm squeeze, then released it, as concise and commanding as a marshal ought to be.

“Thank you,” Ignis murmured. There was a welling in his chest, expanding his lungs with bright warmth. He felt as though he could actually embrace the marshal in relief. _Best save that for after the wedding. He can’t kill me after I marry his son._

“Sure,” Cor said. He gave a shake of his head, still wearing that minuscule smile. “Just...be good to him, Ignis.”

“I will. Thank you,” Ignis said again, throat tight.

A minute later he was back outside, the door clicking shut behind him. Hardly a half-an-hour had passed, but a weight had lifted from his shoulders. He hadn’t truly believed that Cor would refuse his request, but a tiny kernel of worry had been nestled deep within his gut. Now that was gone and there was nothing left but to ask the man he loved if he would like to spend the rest of their lives together.

As he climbed down the front steps on somewhat rubbery legs, Ignis felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Predictably, when he retrieved the device, he had several messages from Prompto.

 **Prompto:** hey babe! i miss you and i love you!

 **Prompto:** also did you know that fishing sucks???

 **Prompto:** i love Noct but he has all the hobbies of a retired grandpa

The messages were accompanied by a selfie of Prompto, wearing his signature crooked grin, arm thrown around Noct, who was trying hard not to smile. The two of them were squeezed cheek to cheek into frame together. In the background was the harbor, water slate and choppy, the sky above bright blue.

 **Ignis:** I love you, too, darling. I can’t wait to see you tonight.

 **Ignis:** Please tell Noctis that I asked him to keep you better entertained.

 **Prompto:** awww baaaabe <333

 **Prompto:** Noct gave me the finger so interpret that how you want xD

A smile spread across Ignis’ face, affection simmering hot behind his ribs. He tucked his phone away and started toward the curb where his car was waiting. There was a lot of work for him to do, yet.

✧✧✧

Ignis was in the kitchen when he heard the front door burst open followed by Prompto’s singsong greeting.

“Honey, I’m home!”

“Just in time,” Ignis called back. He switched off the stove-top and turned, moving into the front hall where Prompto was sitting on the bottom of the stairs, stripping off his boots. He hopped up when Ignis drew close, and grimaced when Ignis cupped his face, leaning in for a greeting kiss.

“Ugh. I stink, Iggy. Lemme take a shower first,” Prompto grumbled, though there was laughter in his voice and his hands came to rest on Ignis’ waist.

“You smell divine,” Ignis murmured, moving his mouth to a reddening cheek. Prompto smelled of sweat and brine, nothing that could deter Ignis from welcoming him home properly.

“Liar,” Prompto snorted. “I smell dinner, though. Can I use your shower and change into something that doesn’t have fish guts on it, pretty-please?”

With a long-suffering sigh, Ignis released him and stepped back. “I suppose. Hurry up, then.”

Prompto gave him a teasing little grin, then turned and flung himself up the stairs with his usual abundance of energy. Ignis waited until he heard the shower turn on, then returned to the kitchen, stomach fluttering. He was nervous, but he’d been rehearsing this night in his mind for over a year at this point. Nothing he could do at this point would make him more or less prepared.

Twenty minutes later Prompto all but slid into the dining room in socked feet, then froze on the threshold. “Uh. Am I under-dressed?” he asked, regarding the scene before him with round eyes.

There were candles on the table, as well as a brand-new white tablecloth and the set of good porcelain dishware. Ignis himself was wearing a green cardigan and comfortable jeans, hair combed back casually. He hadn’t wanted to overwhelm Prompto with anything too over-the-top, just enough to denote this night as a special occasion.

“Not at all,” Ignis said. He set the final plate on the table, then moved over to his boyfriend and took him by the hands, drawing him toward the nearest chair. “Sit, love. I made your favorites.”

Prompto looked almost worried as he glanced down at what were essentially pajamas on him—an old t-shirt with his high school mascot on it, and loose track pants, clothing that he kept at Ignis’ for when he slept over. Combined with his unstyled, damp hair and skin flushed from the shower, he looked adorably comfortable and gorgeous. Ignis was sorely tempted to push him up against the wall and ravish him—just a bit, really—but he somehow managed to restrain himself.

“I didn’t forget something, did I?” Prompto asked as Ignis pulled the chair out for him. He sat and reached for a delicately folded cloth napkin. He gave a nervous titter, “It’s not, like, the anniversary of something? Like the first time we made out in a dressing room, or something?”

Ignis chortled as he seated himself on the other side of the table. “No. I just thought we’d have a nice dinner.”

A dubious look flashed across Prompto’s face, but then he smiled as he looked down at his plate. “You’re full of it, but I’m starving so I’m not gonna argue.”

Despite this claim, Prompto managed not to inhale his dinner—a spicy roast meat and vegetable stew with a side of long-grain rice and salad. There was also a bottle of red wine he’d been saving just for this night; Ignis had poured them each a glass of wine and a secondary glass of water. Prompto spent the meal alternating between talking cheerfully about his day and praising the meal between bites.

“Can I take some leftovers home for my dad? I’m pretty sure he’s been sneaking Hot Pockets again when I’m not home,” Prompto asked as he licked stew from the back of his spoon. “He won’t admit it, but he loves your cooking, babe.”

“Certainly,” Ignis agreed. He’d made a bit extra for that very reason, and felt a small twinge of satisfaction to hear that the not easily impressed Cor enjoyed his culinary endeavors.

Their bowlswere all but empty by that point, plates clean but for a few stray bits of salad. “So, did you do anything fun today?” Prompto asked.

“Oh, nothing much,” Ignis said, trying for a casual tone as his heart rate ticked up. “Are you finished?”

“Yeah, I’m stuffed!” Prompto sighed, leaning back to pat his belly, “You’re seriously the best, babe. You spoil me so much.”

“Only because you deserve it, beloved,” Ignis said as he rose. He circled the table and bent to kiss Prompto on the crown of his head, then began to collect the dishes. Of course, Prompto immediately volunteered to help. Ignis considered shooing him out of the kitchen, but working together they could clean up more quickly. And then...and then.

In short shrift, the dishes were all rinsed and loaded into the dishwasher, the pans scrubbed and set to dry. Leftovers were packed into a plastic container and stowed in the fridge for Prompto to take home with him the next day. Ignis stood over the sink, wiping his hands dry on a dishtowel, and felt a pair of strong arms come sliding around his waist. A warm body pressed against his back and he smiled, blood stirring at the sensation of a firm chest molding against his back.

“Can I help you with something, Prompto?” he asked, even as he felt lips begin to trace a pattern against the back of his neck.

“Mm,” Prompto hummed. “This might be a corny line, but I think it’s time for dessert, Igs.”

“Ah-ah,” Ignis said. He set down the towel and turned in Prompto’s embrace. There was a decidedly naughty look on Prompto’s face, lips quirked into a grin, his eyes hot with desire. The sight sent a shiver across Ignis’ skin, and it took an effort to take Prompto by the upper arms and push him back slightly.

“I may have lied when I said I had no ulterior motives tonight,” Ignis said, hoping that his voice was level.

Prompto blinked up at him, expression softening. “Oh? Did you get me something?”

“You might say that,” Ignis said. He had had a speech planned, but the words escaped him now as he gazed down at his lover. Prompto’s eyes were darkened with need, cheeks stained red, his full, pink lips parted expectantly. Ignis took a long moment to drink in the sight of him just like this.

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, my darling,” he said, “You’re the love of my life. You know that, yes?”

“I—,” Prompto swallowed hard, throat bobbing, and there was a look of dawning comprehension on his face. “I mean—same, Iggy. I love you more than anything.”

Ignis ran his hands down Prompto’s arms until he could grasp his hands, lifting them to his mouth and brushing his lips tenderly against the knuckles of one, then the other. “You make me so happy, and I want to spend the rest of my life being worthy of you and bringing you joy in turn.” He felt steadfast now, certain that no matter the outcome of what he was about to do, this was right.

Prompto gaped as Ignis turned them so he could take a step back, lowering himself to one knee right there on the kitchen tile. “Iggy,” Prompto croaked out, voice hoarse. There was a sheen of tears in his eyes, the color rising on his face.

“You must promise me that you won’t tease me for this, but I went to your father today to ask his blessing,” Ignis began, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans where he’d stowed the small velvet box. “I did tell him I would do this regardless of his opinion, but thankfully he decided to be reasonable.”

A tiny smile settled on Prompto’s lips, and it only widened when he saw the ring box. “Dork,” he whispered, but his voice caught on the word, hitching with emotion.

“As they say, it takes one to know one,” Ignis said with a smile. Deftly, he opened the ring box and Prompto reached out, fingers curling around his own. “Will you do me the honor of being my husband?”

A soft noise escaped Prompto and he reached up to dash at his eyes with his free hand. He opened his mouth to answer, but it seemed that words had failed him. So instead, he tackled Ignis to the floor, bowling them both over and just barely avoiding knocking Ignis senseless. Laughing, pinned to the tiles, Ignis wrapped his arms around Prompto, who sniffled into his neck.

“I knew,” Prompto choked out, “I _knew._ Noct practically begged me to come fishing today and he kept looking at me funny, and then you...you...”

“We conspired against you, yes,” Ignis agreed warmly, smoothing a hand up and down Prompto’s back. “So, is this a yes?”

He felt Prompto nodding fervently against his shoulder. “ _Yes_ ,” he said. “Yes, you jerk.”

Somehow, Ignis managed to surge up into sitting position, hugging Prompto tightly against him, heart thrumming. He buried his face in Prompto’s shoulder, breathing him in, basking in the scent of his own soaps and Prompto’s natural warmth. There was a prickling in his own eyes even as he laughed softly, intensely joyful and in love.

“Let me put the ring on you,” Ignis said, and Prompto peeled back from him with reluctance. His eyes were red as he held up a trembling left hand, and Ignis removed the ring from its bed of satin cloth—luckily, the box hadn’t flown out of his hand when he’d been unceremoniously knocked down. The ring felt heavy in his hand, but it slid easily into place on Prompto’s waiting finger, the fit perfect.

“How did you...?” Prompto asked softly, holding up his hand and staring at the ring with a stunned expression.

“The measurements for your uniform gloves,” Ignis said. “They’re custom made.”

Prompto breathed out a soft laugh, and then he was throwing his arms back around Ignis where they sat on the floor.

Ignis gladly returned the embrace. “I love you,” he murmured, “I love you so much, Prompto.”

“Me too,” Prompto said. Then, “Gods, get up. I wanna suck your dick.”

Ignis really laughed then, throwing his head back even as he felt a hot mouth trailing kisses against his throat. They managed to disentangle themselves long enough to pull one another to their feet, and then Prompto was pushing Ignis back, back against the kitchen counter. Hands were pushing up his sweater, tugging at his belt. And Prompto was kissing him, lips pressed feverishly against his own, tongue sliding hotly against the seam of his mouth. Ignis leaned in to deepen the kiss, cupping Prompto’s face and groaning, dragging teeth against a plump lower lip.

With a gasp, Prompto jerked back, having accomplished his goal of getting Ignis’ trousers open. Ignis had the briefest thought that this wasn’t the romantic culmination that he had envisioned, but it was still so perfect, such a Prompto thing to do to. Then Prompto was sliding down, reaching into the confines of cloth, fingers sliding along silky flesh that was already throbbing for him. Ignis hissed, watching that clever hand draw him out, pumping his length to its full hardness.

“Gods,” Ignis whispered. “Gods, yes, love.” He watched Prompto’s eyes, hot now with lust, as he leaned forward and licked Ignis’ cock from base to tip, tracing the thick vein underneath. Then that tongue flattened beneath the head, laving against the sensitive ridge of skin there as Ignis shuddered with pleasure. When Prompto opened his mouth and drew Ignis’ cock into his mouth, enveloping in sweet, wet heat, he thought his knees might actually buckle.

He loved watching Prompto tease him like this, taking him deep without ever breaking eye contact. It was intimate and mind-blowing, and he had to grip the edge of the countertop to keep himself grounded. Prompto sucked him slowly, working himself further and further down until Ignis felt his cockhead hit the back of Prompto’s throat. A small, strangled noise escaped his lips as Prompto swallowed around him, cheeks hollowing.

“Oh, love,” Ignis gasped, “That’s perfect.”

He thought he saw something in Prompto’s eyes then, a tiny spark of mischief. Before he could gather his thoughts through the haze of pleasure, he found Prompto wrapping both hands around him. Working in tandem, they began to move rapidly along with his mouth, stroking in a twisting motion that made Ignis think he was either going to melt or burst into flames. The engagement ring stood out like a silvery beacon on Prompto’s finger as his hands worked, the metal cool and hard against Ignis’ heated skin.

“Prompto!” he cried, “Oh, gods!” He wasn’t going to last at this rate, but he didn’t want to come just yet. With an effort, he cupped Prompto’s neck, slowing the rapid bobbing of his head. Prompto pulled off, hands slowing, nuzzling his face against Ignis’ hand. His lips were slick and shiny with spit and other fluids, and the sight sent a surge of hot want through Ignis.

“Come here,” Ignis murmured thickly. Prompto was on his feet in an instant, kissing him again, rocking his hips teasingly against Ignis’ exposed cock. “Brat,” Ignis gasped. An idea struck him and he grinned wickedly, acting before he had time to think. Prompto yelped as he was spun around, lifted by the thighs and sat down on the kitchen counter. His cry of surprise turned into a whimper as Ignis ground between his legs and pressed a biting kiss to his throat. Prompto’s own erection pressed needfully against Ignis through the loose fabric of his pants. Ignis made short work of drawing him out, teasing a thumb over the swollen head, purple from neglect. _This is going to make a terrible mess,_ he thought as he shifted closer and pressed their cocks together so that he could take them both in hand.

Prompto clung to him, legs wrapping around Ignis’ waist as he tried to rock his hips forward, seeking friction in Ignis’ hand. Ignis obliged him, stroking them both in a tight fist, pushing his own hips involuntarily into his grip. Their cocks were burning hot together, flush and growing slick with precome and sweat. Ignis’ movements were already growing jerky as he felt his orgasm mounting, and he gritted his teeth so hard he thought they might crack.

“Come with me, darling,” he bit out, “Come for me, Prompto, I want to see your face.”

With a sob, Prompto leaned back in compliance, meeting Ignis’ eyes again. There was desperation in his gaze, his hands twisted into the fabric on Ignis’ shoulders. “Oh, babe. Yes, gods, I—!” He cut off with a long, shuddering cry, eyes slamming shut. He was gloriously disheveled, mouth hanging open, flushed all the way down to his shirt collar. Between their shaking bodies, Prompto’s cock pulsed in Ignis hand. Wet heat spilled over his still moving hand and then he was coming as well, dragging Prompto close with his free hand and burying his face in Prompto’s hair with a choked sound of ecstasy.

For a long moment they remained like that, panting and quivering in one another’s arms. There was a heat crawling beneath Ignis skin, satisfied and abiding, as if love permeated every fiber of his being.

“We’re engaged,” he said with a contented sigh, breathing the words into Prompto’s hair, now damp with sweat.

“Uh-huh,” Prompto said in agreement, leaning limply into Ignis, breath heaving. “I think I need to take another shower.”

“Mmm. Later. When I’m finished with you,” Ignis said. In his arms, he felt Prompto go tense in anticipation, and smiled. “Let’s move this to the bedroom in the meantime. Shall we?”

“Yes, please,” Prompto said. He was grinning when he sat up, that mischievous twinkle back in his eye. “But only if you carry me up there like a princess.”

“Anything for you, my love,” Ignis said with a laugh, “Anything for you.” Although spoken in levity, the words were pulled from the depths of his heart, and he intended to stand by them for the rest of his days.

**Author's Note:**

> ;)


End file.
